(Chapter 1)
A little bit of backstory:        
        Roanapur. It's an island located south of Bangkok near Ko Chang. Chances are, you've never heard of it and will never see it on the news. Which is odd considering what happens here on a daily basis. 
     
       Truth be told, the only people that (willingly) come here are those looking for "less than legal" services. Blackmail, drugs, and weapons are just a few of the things offered here. Want to "reclaim" a disk with sensitive information? Talk to one of the many courier services by the water. Need some drugs to get you through the day? Simply talk to one of the many suppliers in the city. Require some heavy weaponry? Go to Rip-Off Church and tell em' what you need. After all, everyone in this city needs a gun. Well, all but one person. Rokuro Okajima. This idiot fully believes that he will never need a gun. Then again, he's only the negotiator. It's Revy's job to do all the shooting. After all, they are partners.  But to be honest, it's surprising that he still hasn't shot anyone yet. But with all the tension in the air, that's all about to change. 

(Chapter 2)
Introductions: Ryan
      What would my folks think of me now? I was a "security consultant" for high-value targets. On paper, I worked for trust-fund idiots who thought it was a good idea to party in some third world country for spring break. However, most of my money came from telling crime syndicates and other less than savory characters that their security sucks. Most people begrudgingly listen to my advice and make the necessary adjustments. But all it takes is one fuckup to turn you into a has-been.

Japan. Winter 1996 (2 Months before the events of Fujiyama Gangsta Paradise)
           Two people were sitting inside nervously talking about something only they knew about. One was a Japanese man in his 40's with sunglasses and a trench coat. His name was Ginji Matsuzaki. He's a former assassin turned protector of Yukio Washimine. The other person was me. A 23-year-old Filipino with spiked up black hair and a three-piece suit. People simply called me Ryan.

"Look, I don't care about that you don't want her to get involved in this. You told me yourself Mr. Matsuzaki, they will not accept anyone but her."

The former assassin only looked up at me in anger.

"What would a gaijin mercenary like you possibly know about how things work here? I should kill you right now for your insolence."

Great. Now he's reaching for his sword. Better calm him down before things get ugly.

"There's no need to get violent. I'm simply saying that if you don't quell the doubts about this clan's leadership, someone will try to kill her with the help of the Kosa Council. After all, there is a large amount of money to be made here." 

As I said that, his face softened and his hand proceeded to the bottle of sake on the table. As he did that, I simply breathed a sigh of relief. Then, he spoke again in a softer, almost regretful voice.

"I simply cannot allow her to get involved with this mess." On his face, there was a look of something that I couldn't truly explain. Regret? Anger? Grief? God damn this guy's confusing. Oh well, time to make some money.

"I know.  However, this whole clan is still a target. If you don't want to get her involved, the least I can do is offer you a fallback plan."

As the night went on, we talked about different retirement plans. Properties outside the country (which I get 10% commission on), Different stock options, and even a move into animation was considered. Afterwards, I got 100k for my work and another 500k from property commissions. Sounds good right? Well, turns out that the Kosa Council decided to strike them down only a few months later and I was blamed for not giving them my "full support" or some other bullshit.  *sigh* At least I got paid and a decent phone out of it. Apparently, the start-up sound is making fun of a gaijin gunslinger who killed Ginji in a fight.
 
(In Japanese) 
Standard Magical girl music in the background.
*Magical girl voice*
"Radical Revy-chan on stage!"
*Confused Male*
"Who are you?"
*Narrator's voice*
"The Magical Girl"

           It's a damn shame I can't understand their language. After that whole fiasco, I was out of a job and couldn't really go anywhere.  To make things worse, all my money was locked up cause I invested in small businesses stateside or in penny stocks like Apple or Google. At this point, all I can do is head to the nearest shithole and wait for the money to free up. Turns out, the most profitable shithole nearby is in Thailand. A little island of scum and villainy called Roanapur. Sounds like my kind of place.

(Chapter 3)
Good Morning Roanapur:

6:00 A.M. 
October 1997
Lagoon House (Where The Crew Lives)
At exactly 6:00 A.M. every day Rokuro Okajima woke up.  After another LEGENDARY drinking contest with Revy, he had an equally legendary hangover. Fourtunly for him, he always kept water and aspirin by his bedside. After popping two pills and draining the glass, he went to freshen up and prepare for a new day.

"Life really is full of surprises" Rock mumbled. After all, 
Less than two years ago, he was slaving away at Asahi Industries as a standard Japanese businessman wearing his white dress shirt, teal tie, and slacks. Now, he's doing things that he couldn't have imagined before.  In fact, if anyone told him what he was going to do back in his previous life, he would call them crazy and refer them to a mental health clinic.

As he opened his dresser to grab yet another white shirt and teal tie, he notices that damn Hawaiian t-shirt. 
"Why did I even keep it?" Rock thought "After all, it's hideous and I have no plan of wearing it whatsoever." As he puts on the shirt he continues to wonder. 
"Is it cause I'm scared of what Revy's gonna do if I toss it?"
As he puts on his tie, he continues to question how he feels about his current situation.
 "Not really. After all, she's hasn't really wanted to shoot me since the incident at the market." 
He simply smiled at the memory.  The day he got fed up with Revy treating him just like his bosses did back in Japan and decided to give her a piece of his mind was the day she truly respected him.  Ever since then, they had an understanding of sorts.
"But why did I care so much then? Is it cause I care about how she feels? Yeah. That's it. She's a friend and  I don't want to upset her. Nothing more, nothing less."
He then went out of his room into the main living area.    Every day, he sat on a couch looking over the previous day's finances.  On and on he went, doing what businessmen do best: paperwork.
"Weekly liquor shipments and enhancement devices to GoofFest? Check."
And just like every other day, Dutch came in to warm breakfast and a pot of coffee.
Still engrossed in his paperwork, Rock barely looked up as he greeted his boss. 
"Morning Dutch"
"Morning Rock. Anything interesting today?"
"Not really. Just the same old customers asking for the same old things."
"That's good to hear Rock. After all, it's rare to have a moment of peace here."
As Rock continued to look at the pile of paperwork he suddenly raised an eyebrow in confusion. Dutch noticed this and turned to the businessman with a twinge of concern.
"What's wrong?"
"I'm not really sure Dutch, I just noticed that there has been a worryingly large amount of long distance calls to India."
Dutch simply chuckled at this. Seems like Benny-Boy has been sweet-talking Jane again.
"Don't worry about it. That's just Benny talking to his girlfriend."
Just then, Benny walked into the room.
"Were you guys talking about me?" 
"Yeah. Do you mind cutting back on the late night chats? Apparently, it's costing us a little too much."
As Dutch and Benny were bantering about how important those calls were, Rock simply smiled at the idea of having someone special in his life. Just then, the phone rang and he got up to answer it.
"Lagoon Company. How may I help you?"
"Is Dutch there?" 
"Yes, he is Ms.Balalaika."
As he handed the phone to Dutch he realized what he had to do. He grabbed a bottle of aspirin and headed towards Revy's room to wake her up.  In the old days, it was an initiation of sorts into the crew. Wake up Revy and get out before she shoots you in the face. But over time, Dutch and Benny realized that for some unknown reason, she didn't get mad when Rock woke her up. And thus, it became his duty to wake her up when they needed her.

As he neared her door, he put his ear to the frame to check if she's awake. As always, she's still sleeping off her hangover. He then opens the door and creeps to her bed. Placing the aspirin along with a glass of water by her bed, he simply became captured by her beauty.
"You look so peaceful when your sleeping" Rock whispered in her ear as he brushed a strand of her plum-colored hair off her face. In that moment, he felt a longing that he never felt before. Suddenly realizing what's he's doing, he quickly moved away from her and opened the blinds.
"Wake up Revy."
She simply groaned and sat up in her bed.
"Why the early wake-up call Rock?"
As he handed her the pills and water, he replied simply.
"Probably a simple pick up job from Balalaika."
    If they only knew the clusterfuck they were walking into.

(Chapter 4)
Just a simple pickup?

12:00 P.M

As Rock went back outside to give Revy some privacy, he noticed that Dutch already finished his call with Balalaika. A few minutes later, Revy came in wearing her usual clothing. A black tube top that exposed her belly, cutoff jeans that exposed her slender legs, and her hair fixed up in a loose ponytail. In fact, she really was the epitome of beauty in this hellhole. However, no one flirted with her and the ones that did ended up in the gutter courtesy of her custom Baretta 92's.

Dutch was already prepared for the job at hand. Wearing a flak-jacket over his military fatigues, he was currently loading 12-gauge slugs into his sliver Remington 870 Marine Magnum Shotgun. Six in the tube, one in the chamber. After that, he loaded his Smith & Wesson Model 629. Chambered in 44. Magnum and holding 6 rounds, his wheelgun was capable of taking out anything short of a charging Grizzly Bear. On the other hand, Benny was carrying a box of electronics simply marked "Do not touch." He looked like he wouldn't be out of place at a Miami club with his orange Hawaiian shirt and somewhat messy blonde hair. Noticing that everyone was here, Dutch informed them of their next job.

"Listen up, Balalaika wants us to exchange some bribe money with some mercenaries for information."
The rest of the crew just groaned at that prospect. After all, the last mercenaries they dealt with (Extra Order or EO for short) were a bunch of foolhardy cowboys with enough weaponry to arm a small country.  He then continued, saying that Benny had new detection equipment so they should be able to get the jump on the mercs if they decide to double-cross them. Revy simply raised an eyebrow at this and mumbled about needing a smoke.

(3 Hours Later)

Once again, Rock started the negotiations on the behalf of the crew. To his right, Revy acting has his bodyguard guns ready at a moments notice.
"Do you have the package, Mr. Smith?"
The Man simply grinned.
"Do you have the money?"
Rock opened his suitcase.
"100K in cash as agreed upon with Ms. Balalaika over the phone."
Mr. Smith then picked up a stack to check it's authenticity.

Back at the boat, Benny was observing his equipment listening for any chatter.
"Guys?"
Benny said tentatively over the radio.
"Hmmm?" Revy mumbled
"It appears that our friends are gonna ambush you in one minute."
Revy then grabbed a cigarette. To the mercs, it looked like she simply wanted a smoke to pass the time. But to Rock, this was a signal to be on his toes. One click of the lighter. That means he had one minute before the shit started.  Three drags. That means there were three gunmen ready to shoot at a moments notice. Added to Mr. Smith, that meant four people ready to ambush them.  Then, Mr. Smith started talking.

"This looks legit. Nice doing business with you Mr. Okajima."
Rocks eyes then widened when he said Okajima.
"How the hell did he know my name?!"He thought nervously.
Rock then composed himself and continued the conversation.
"I suppose this means that we will be doing business again?"
The man simply chuckled.
"I'm sorry, but our business is finished. You won't be receiving any more business from us. Or any of your other clients."
He then reached into his coat pocket for his 1911A1. Behind Mr. Smith, Rock could hear guns cocking. 
Revy then screamed.
"GET DOWN ROCK!'
Rock proceeded to roll into the nearest hard point on his left. This time around, it was a Concrete support pillar.  Revy pulled out her twin cutlasses out of their leather cross-draw shoulder holsters and squeezed the trigger on her left gun. Despite still being in danger, Rock stared in awe as Revy shot Mr. Smith in the head splattering grey matter behind as the bullet exited his head. 

Revy then moved to the pillar opposite his and took a mental note of where the gunmen were.  On the other side of the warehouse 20 yards away, there were two gunmen hiding behind some pillars. One on the left, and one on the right. The final gunman was walking in the middle of the room, gun still pointed at her.  Normally, this wouldn't have been much of a problem. Just shoot the one approaching from the middle, and shoot the other two when they retaliate. However, all of the gunmen were wearing plate carriers with ceramic inserts. Those were capable of dealing with 7.62×39mm rounds from an AK without fail and thus her 9mm would not even faze him. To make things worse, all the gunmen were wearing ballistic face masks. That means headshots with her guns would be futile. If only she could grab the gunman's AK and use it against the other two. But to do that, she would have to kill him. That would be impossible unless she got a shot at the back of his head.

Noticing this, Rock panicked. 
"Was this the way they were going to go down?  Killed in some dusty warehouse by some mercenary assholes looking to make an extra buck?" 
He cringed at the thought. 
"No. If I'm going to die, better as well die fighting.  After all, was there a better way to go down then fighting alongside your partner?"
Quickly analyzing his options he realized what he had to do. He had to make himself a target to distract the gunman and hope that Revy could make the shot.
He dived towards the cases in the middle of the room and grabbed them. As he was falling to the ground, the gunman noticed him and twisted his whole body to level his rifle at Rock. Noticing this sudden change of events, Revy aimed at the gunman's head with her right gun and fired. Unfourtunly for Rock, the gunman was able to get a shot off before he died.  Fortunately, the bullet narrowly missed his head, impacting only an inch from his left ear.

Revy then took the opportunity and lunged for the gunman's body. Grabbing the AK and two mags, she fired at the gunman on her right. The one on the left then peeked around his pillar thinking that he could get the kill and a promotion and got his number punched for his troubles. Realizing what his situation was, the gunman on the right cursed the companies damn accountants for not allowing him to bring explosives on this mission and proceeded to use a smoke grenade as cover so he could get out with his face intact.

Only a minute after the action, Revy was screaming at Rock (again) for being such a fucking idiot.
"What the fuck was that for Rock!?"
Still not realizing how close he was to death, Rock was simply confused at her anger.
"What do you mean?"
Angered at his stupidity, Revy proceeded to punch him in the gut and glared at him as he collapsed in pain.
"Lunging for the cases? Do you not realize how fucking close you were to dying? I mean, we may be the walking dead, but that doesn't mean you should be so stupid with your life!"
Suddenly realizing how worried Revy was and how close he was to death, Rock told her why he lunged for the case.
"I realized that the gunman needed to be distracted for you to get a shot, so I decided to distract him by taking the case."
Noticing that his explanation wasn't enough, he then continued nervously.
"I realized that taking this risk was the only chance we had to make it out alive."
Revys eyes then softened at those words. Picking him up, she softly asked,
"What if you died Rock?"
Rock sighed and said,
"As long as you made it out, I would be content. After all, what better way to go then fighting alongside your partner?"
Then, the radio crackled and Rock could hear Dutch talking through the headset.
"You two ok? We heard gunshots and saw one of the mercs leaving the building."
Revy then answered with a grin.
"We're fine Dutch.  Those mercs tried to double cross us and I killed them. Same old, same old."
Dutch simply chuckled
"Oh right you two, just get back to the boat so we can get paid."
Rock then smiled at Revy and was about to say something when she glared at him.
"If you tell anyone about this..."
Rock simply chuckled.
"I know, you're gonna shoot me. Don't worry, I won't tell anyone."

(Four Hours Later)
Lagoon Docks/Office  

"I would like to thank your crew for your services Dutch."
Balalaika started.
"It's most unfortunate that those mercenaries tried to double cross you. However, in this line of work things like that are bound to happen. Take the bribe money as a token of my appreciation."
When the money was mentioned, Revy's eyes simply lit up. On top of the 10K each for the job, they were going to get 25K extra!
Balalaika then continued talking about the job. Things like how that company is now an enemy of Hotel Moscow, details about what they were armed with, and other various pieces of intel were exchanged as part of the debrief.
"Once again, thank you for your services Lagoon Company. We'll call you when we have another job for you."

When she was gone, Rock then asked 
"Yellow Flag?"
Usually speaking, Revy would have jumped at the opportunity of free booze. After all, Rock usually paid their tab either out of kindness or cause she drank him under the table. However, she didn't want to drink with him tonight.
"Nah. Gonna go to the Rip-Off Church and drink with Eda tonight."
Rock simply raised an eyebrow at this.
"You sure?"
However, Revy was already gone.
"Dutch? Benny? You guys wanna come with?"
Dutch simply grabbed some tools and said,
"Not tonight Rock. I have to fix some problems with the Lagoon. Engine 2 is idling funny again."
Benny was grabbing some lotion and going towards his room when he responded.
"Sorry Rock, Gonna talk with Jane tonight."
"Well, I guess it's just me then."
Rock sighed as he went out. 
Little did he know, those Mercs were preparing another assault.

(Chapter 5)
Another Day, Another Dollar:

(Takes place at the same time as Chapter 4)
*BEEP BEEP BEEP*
*Hard thump*
Great, it's 4:00 A.M. Gotta get dressed up and prepare for another day in this shithole. In the old days, I would have been able to wake up to silk sheets next to a model (who may or may not have been my client) and have a nice cup of Starbucks within the hour. Now, I'm drinking a shitty local brew out of a 5 cent cup I got from the market downstairs. Instead of a gourmet breakfast made by the client's personal chef, I get microwave pizza and pop-tarts. Instead of a luxurious bathroom with a shower and a hot tub, I get a moldy ass bathroom with walls so thin, I can hear the man shitting up a storm in the next room. Worst of all, instead of my glorious arsenal of weapons and gadgets I have a Hi-Point. A FUCKING JAM-O-MATIC, FEELS LIKE SHIT, CAN'T HIT A FUCKING TARGET HI-POINT. 
*chuckling*
Wait... You actually think I was serious when I said that? No, not the bit about how Hi-Points are shit (cause they are) but the point about losing my arsenal. Trust me when I say this, I would quite literally sell a kidney before I let my babies go. Truth be told, they've gotten me through thick and thin and have saved my ass more times than I can count. But what do I even have? Well, you might want to sit down for this one.

One Tactical Plate Carrier with Ceramic inserts. Sure, it's heavy as hell and makes sitting down kinda awkward but it makes killing me a HELL of a lot harder.
One Kevlar Ballistic Facemask. Great for dealing with your standard tough with their Glocks or Uzi's and even concealing my identity, it's would be perfect for my current job. However, it restricts my view and gets hot as fuck after a couple of minutes in the sun. As such, I usually keep it off during the day unless I'm REALLY fucked.
One FN P90
Chambered in the SS190 variant of FN 5.7×28mm, it has a 50 round box magazine and full-auto capability. As such, she's my choice for dealing with people behind cover or those with body armor. Unfortunately, feeding her is an absolute bitch due to the rarity of the round in this part of the world and it's stopping power is dubious.
One Colt Delta Elite
Chambered in 10mm Auto, it's able to penetrate most soft body armor and punch even the ones with ceramics down at times. Based on the 1911 pistol, this gun was born to deal with high recoil without fail. Provided with appropriate recoil dampening provided by an attached suppressor and improved internals it's capable of surprisingly controllable Full-Auto fire. That's right, FULL FUCKING AUTO. 
"But Ryan" I hear you whine, 
"Full Auto out of a Pistol is already hard enough with guns like the Baretta 93R! With 10mm it's like you want to snap your hand off!"
You have a point there dear reader. 10mm isn't for everyone due to its high recoil. However, I only flick that giggle switch when I have a nice two-handed grip on the gun. Also, the suppressor really helps by giving the gas a place to expand instead of shooting out the barrel like a fucking jet engine. It even has the added benefit of making the gun really quiet.
"What type of no-guns faggot are you Ryan? SUPPRESSORS DON'T MAKE GUNS WHISPER QUIET YOU FUCKING IDIOT!"
Well, I don't know what type of  Fourth Reich runs Europe, Literal Socialists running for president, College students rioting and calling conservative jews nazis, commie-run California type shitty universe you're in but here, they make guns whisper quiet.
(Authors note: In the Black Lagoon cannon, Suppressors basically work like magic. In the interest of being in said cannon (and cause rule of cool) I'm gonna stick with that. Feel free to hate me when you comment.)
Moving on, I also have a Saga-12.
Patterned after an AK but chambered for 12-Gauge shotgun shells, this is my "Go Fuck Yourself" gun. To be honest, it's nothing special. Just a shortened barrel for easier concealment and use and a folding stock so I can put it under my coat. The real surprise is the rounds I put into it. Now, where are my testing notes? 
Napalm shells.
Description: Napalm inserted into a shotgun shell.
Designed to be a glob of fire that burns target and start fires.
Result: Failure. Can't penetrate for shit. No fireballs either. 
Continues on next page...
Wait... Where the fuck are the other pages?

Shit. I forgot that I added to my notes while on the shitter last night. Now, where did I leave off?
Fire shells.
Description: Magnesium pellets loaded into a shotgun shell. 
Designed to set fires 100 ft away and stun enemies.
Result: Meh. Sometimes works, sometimes doesn't. Too expensive considering its reliability issues.

Exploding slugs(Variant 1).
Description: Hollowed out shotgun slugs. Loaded with a pressure sensitive detonator on the tip and high explosives in the center.
Result: Success. Anyone within 3 feet of the explosion is killed or at least injured. Ballistic face masks are ineffective at stopping shards from penetrating cranium. 

Exploding slugs (Variant 2)
Description: Hollowed out shotgun slugs. Loaded with a pressure sensitive detonator on the tip and high explosives in the center. Explosives are shaped in a cone in an attempt to penetrate armor.
Result: Meh. Compared to Variant 1 this is not very useful. It's more difficult to make and is only a one trick pony.

Note: Apparently it's a war crime to use explosives under 400 grams. Then again, that law only applies to countries who signed it/groups who lost wars. I'm neither of those.

Explosive Butane Lighter.
Description: Standard Butane lighter used for lighting cigars/cigarettes. Storage space is limited due to cavity put aside for high explosive charge. Injures anyone within 1 foot of device.
Result: Sucess. Fucked up some ankles a few weeks ago. Just try not to trigger device when lighting a smoke.

Butane Torch.
Description: Small butane torch. Burns at around         2,610 °F. It can melt many common metals and set fire to most organic compounds. Perfect for breaking and entering.
Result: It works. After all, I just bought it from a home goods store.

Electronic Watch.
Description: Just your standard black electronic watch. Tells time, date and has a stopwatch feature. Has a hidden tracking beacon (activated/deactivated by pressing the correct button code) and a slot for a shiv capable of circumventing handcuffs/ cutting rope (given enough time).
Result: Works in testing. Haven't been able to try it out in a real scenario yet.

Weapon notes:
P90, Saga 12, and Colt Delta Elite magazines are VERY hard to come by in this city. Have to custom order them from the Church in bulk. Also, needing to pick them up after every gunfight is getting annoying. May need to invest in a Glock or two.

Colt Delta Elites (I have two now) are modified for ambidextrous use. Also, I have a few 18 round extended mags custom made. However, using both at the same time accurately is difficult and reloading is a bitch. I have to hold one gun in my mouth while reloading and then ram the second mag into the gun while I'm holding it. 

New Glock 17MBs (the ambidextrous variant of the Glock 17) came in. Planning to use them as a backup for my Colts.  They are now holstered behind my back (right below the plate carriers). Modified for full auto fire via a switch on the back plate, these things are my go to once the Colts run dry.

Note: Apparently there are two (or three) gunmen in Roanapur who successfully dual wield pistols. May want to take notes about their methods of reloads/ operation.

You still there? Good.  Hopefully, I didn't bore you with the stupid amount of things in those notes.

Anyway, back to my shitty life. Now, I guarded people who were targeted by other assholes. The only difference now is that instead of high-value targets with deep pockets, I get to guard some whorehouse downtown against sick fucks who wanted their jollies for free.  God damn Minotaur security.  Taking MY fucking jobs and gloating over me about it.  I sincerely hope that someone kills Mr. Smith and his smug "I fucking win" face. Shit, if anyone does kill him, I would gladly pay their drinking tab for the next fucking year. 

(Later that day)

Is my boss motioning to me? Yup. Looks like he is.
"Go take care of fatso over there Ryan."
 Speak for yourself boss. You're a good 50 pounds heavier than that 300 LB lard bucket.
"NOW PLEASE!"
Great. Now he seems pissed. Better respond quick.
"Just let me do my job sir."
At least he seems happy about not having to do this himself.
As I pushed out fatso with a cattle prod I borrowed from one of the "performers" I realized what type of shit I was in. No, not the metaphorical type. I'm talking about the literal shit that I accidentally stepped in. The worst part was, it was liquid with a few chunks of "stuff" floating around.  God damn it. At least this day can't get any worse.

(3 Hours later)

"Alrighty then."
Allways nice to talk in small words to toughs.  
"It's just a simple break in, kill an idiot and get out operation."
The man who offered me the job simply nodded. I simply smirked at this. 
"After all," I thought,
 "If this guy's new to the city, then he'll probably shit up a storm in a couple of hours. Just wait and shoot him once he's done"

(One hour later)

And he's off to the races. Truth be told, I got 1,000 dollars for this job and I'm not gonna let this go at this point. After spending 10 dollars to book the room next to his, I simply waited for his explosive diarrhea to start while cleaning my guns. Now, it's just a matter of breaking in. While I could just knock the thin door down, I prefer to go in quietly. Gives me more time to get out and even search the target for any valuables.

"Let's see what we got.  A standard door knob lock with no deadbolt. What a fucking joke."
Too fucking easy. As I grabbed a pick to jiggle the lock with, the target started screaming
"OH GOD! WHY THE FUCK DID I EAT THOSE PORK PIES!     I SHOULD HAVE BOUGHT STOOL SOFTNERS!!"
Poor guy. No one deserves to have a shit too big for their asshole. Now, just gotta pick the lock without anyone looking. Left side, No one there. Same with the right side.
As I opened the now unlocked door, I noticed that there was a door chain attached preventing me from opening the door fully. So I grabbed my butane torch and melted it in two. After a minute, the chain snapped and I was able to open the door fully. Now at this point, I could have shot the man while he was shitting. However, there are some lines that I just won't cross no matter what. Instead, I simply searched around his room for any valuables. 
As I looked, I started mumbling again.
"Let's see here.  As Swiss bank account number and some assorted jewelry." Probably gonna be able to get a good 10K out of those two items. What else do we have?  
"50 rounds of 9mm" 
Goody. I'm never the type of person to decline free ammo.
 "and a *ahem* book simply titled "Welcome To The Fucking Paradise"
 Apparently, it's starring someone called "Miss R". 
(Authors note:  By the way, this actually exists. Just Google it.)
Never heard of her, but it seems good enough. I think I'm gonna keep it for later. All in all, not a bad contract for me.
 
Oh, look! It seems like the guy is done shitting! 

He then walked out of the bathroom with a look of relief and discomfort on his face. Turning to his bed, he noticed me and started panicking.

"What! Who are you?" He said wide-eyed.

"No one really. Just a guy completing a job."
As I said that, I pulled out one of my Colts and shot him in the chest. He collapsed almost immediately and died when I put one in his head for good measure.

After picking up the valuables I found, I celebrated its completion. After all, you gotta enjoy the little things in life.
'Jobs done!" I said joyfully. "Time to get a fucking drink!" 
Besides, I heard of a place called the Yellow Flag that constantly has jobs for people like me. But before I left, I made sure to close and lock the door and put a "Do not disturb sign" on the doorknob.

Talk about an easy paycheck.

Chapter 6:
(It Ain't Revy's Fault)

After that quick little contract, I decided to head to the Yellow Flag Bar. Having only been here for two weeks, I never got the opportunity to settle down and explore the city. However, I'm not completely oblivious to the "Four Pillars" of this city.

Hotel Moscow. Their Roanapur branch is perhaps the most fearsome of the four pillars of the city. They are made up of elite Soviet Paratroopers and most of their ranks served in Afghanistan fighting against the mujahideen. Real scary motherfuckers. Probably trained in explosives, close quarters combat, marksmanship, and general Soviet-era assault tactics.

The Triad. The general peace-keepers in this city, they were here the longest and helped establish the drug trade in the region. Apparently, their leader was confused for a movie actor when he went to Hong Kong on a business trip.

Not sure about the Colombian Cartel or the Italian Mafia though. Apparently, they have tried to start some shit multiple times. Not too much of a bother here though.

Oh well, at least I can get myself a drink and a smoke.

As I walked in, it seemed like everyone's eyes were on me. Oh well, they must not get many strangers around here. Curiously enough, when I went to sit down on one of the bar stools someone whispered
"Someone's gonna die tonight"
Meh. I've dealt with worse. The Bartender simply raised an eyebrow and went over to my seat. He looked like a former Vietnamese soldier with his scowl and facial features.

"What can I get for you tonight?"
Ah. At least he's courteous. 
"Bacardi. Leave the bottle Mr...?"
"Call me Bao."
"Ryan. Nice to meet you."
He then continued talking to me with an eyebrow raised.
"You do know whose seat you're sitting on right?"
Huh. He actually looked concerned when he said that.
"Nope. I'm actually new here."

"Two-Hands?"
Two-Hands? That's probably is one of the gunmen who shoots with two guns. Probably should make friends with him. 

"Revy? Whitman? Any of those names ring a bell?"

Wait... Revy? That's a nickname I've never heard before. Can't be a shortening of a boys name cause those that start with a Re tend to be short. The only name that I can think of that would be worthy of shortening would be Rebecca. That's a girls name. Go fucking figure.

"Hey! You still with me Ryan? I don't want to have to scrape your brains off the walls."
I simply frowned in annoyance and moved one seat over.

Great. At least I can still smoke here. A nice Marlboro and some Gin. Here I am, sitting in a bar on the edge of civilization drinking rum and surrounded by killers.  Shame I can't afford good cigars anymore. This would have been the perfect time for one. 

First glass.
Gotta find a better job soon. I don't think that I can stand that fucking club any longer. Perhaps I can work as a contractor?

Second glass.
Not a fucking chance. Every killer here has been established long before I came here. Every organization has their go-to contractor. 

Third glass.
Probably should slow down a little bit. I'm starting to feel a little dizzy. Looks like someone else is sitting down on the stool next to me. Poor guy looks like a Japanese businessman. Must suck to be him in a hell-hole like this.

The man then spoke.
"Bacardi, please. Leave the bottle."
Rum? This guy must REALLY want to get fucked up tonight.
The bartender just scowled.
"God damn it Rock. You know you still haven't paid the tab for last week's drinking session."
Hmm. Is his name Rock? No. Probably just another one of those nicknames. Well, better as well pay for his drinks. After all, nothing better to start a friendship than getting drunk together?

"It's on me Bao. The guy looks like he could really use a drink."
Rock simply looked at me in confusion. I just tipped my glass at him and had another drag of my cigarette. Then, this guy just chugs HALF A FUCKING BOTTLE of rum like it was nothing. Damn, looks like he's going through a lot of shit. Better as well initiate a conversation.

"What's your problem Rock? I've never seen anyone drink that much unless something REALLY shitty happened to them."
He simply shrugged and turned to face me.

"Have you ever willingly put your life on the line for someone you care about?"
Damn. This guy seems really fucking sad right now.
"No. I'm a security consultant. Even though my whole fucking job is protecting people, I've never put my life on the line for someone I cared for. Go fucking figure."
We simply chuckled at my words.  He then finished his bottle and motioned towards mine.  I simply handed it to him. After a while, I decided to probe a little bit more.

"What about you? What's your job?"

"I work for a courier service. Managing the finances and negotiating deals."
Couriers? Most of them around here also dabble in piracy. Not my problem though. I just want to make some friends.

"Huh. Didn't even know people negotiated out here."
Just as he was about to make a quip, I saw something from the corner of my eye. Minotaur security was here and as always they were itching for a fight. 

Realizing the situation, I quickly made a mental note of what they had. 20 men. Full ceramic plating and ballistic masks. Most of them had flashbangs or smoke grenades. That means this is probably a capture mission and not a kill order.  Then again, D team is run by a bunch of cheap asses. However, the commander is one explosive happy son of a bitch. He only has HE grenades on his kit. As I was thinking to myself, he grabbed two of them and pulled the pins. 

Damn. Someone here must have pissed off the wrong motherfucker. 

He let the spoon's fly off. The other 19 gunmen then raised their guns in preparation.

One.
All of these guys have FN FALs. They are chambered in 7.62×51mm NATO, and capable of 700 Rounds a Minute. Someone must have paid a fortune for this hit.

Two.
Time to dive behind something. The barkeep already ducked behind his bar. Probably should join him. I then grabbed Rock and threw him behind the counter with me.

Three.
The men leveled the rifles at the bar. They proceeded to fire into the building. Surprisingly enough, Rock seemed calm through this whole thing. He was still drunk as fuck but wasn't pissing himself. Perhaps I underestimated him.

Four.
Everyone in the building except us three is dead or wounded. Who the fuck even paid for all this shit anyway? Oh well, it's not my problem as long as I get out of here alive.

Five.
First a Boom. Then a wave of pressure hit me. It punched the air out of my lungs and messed up my hair. Hopefully, they'll go back to base now. After all, it's not like their target is still alive.

"MR.OKAJIMA!"
God damn it. It's had to be Commander Steve "Collateral Damage" Simmons.
"We know you're there! We have you surrounded and there's no chance of escape!"
Rocks eyes simply widened at this. God damn it. The first person who I talk to in this city just had to be targeted by these assholes.
"Don't make this difficult! We will make your death quick if you give up now!"
Ok. Now they are pissing me off.
"HEY FUCKFACE! What's your bitch ass doing here?"
The Commander seemed surprised at my appearance. Then, he decided to respond with a quip.
"Ryan? How's life after we took all your clients from your incompetent ass?"
As He was talking, I quickly made a note of what I had on me.

Two Colt Delta Elites with four 18 Round Mags.
Not optimal, but sure better than the Glocks right now.
One Saga-12 with three 8 Round Mags.
Explosive. Not enough rounds in the mags though.
One P90 with three 50 Round Mags
This will do. However, I still need to aim for the head and distract them somehow.

At this point, the mercs were getting nervous. After all, they didn't expect any resistance from the locals tonight. One of them then decided to use a flashbang. I saw this through the reflection from one of the liquor bottles and decided that this was my opportunity.

As the mercenary pulled the pin, I raised my P90 over my head using my right arm and sprayed at him. He dropped like a stone. The other mercenaries were surprised at this and leveled their guns at the bar. However, the flashbang had a shortened fuse and exploded in a loud bang and a flash of light. I simply smirked. After all, opportunities like this only last seconds.

One. 
I open my eyes and reach behind me for my Saga-12. It's already cocked and locked so the only thing I have to do is flick the safety off.

Two.
Standing up behind the bar, I level my shotgun at the first recovering merc. A squeeze of the trigger and an explosive to his face ended his day.

Three.
Now more people are recovering. No way I can shoot all of them at once. Better as well go for the hail mary.

Four. 
Leveling the gun at the commander, I let loose all 8 remaining rounds at his chest. (I was carrying the gun in an 8+1 configuration) My only hope is that this detonates his grenades.

Five. 
As I was firing at the commander, I simultaneously ducked under the bar. My only hope is that the grenades deton-
BOOM
Huh. I guess it worked. However, seems like the blast knocked Rock out. Better as well bring him home.

"Hey, Bao! You still alive?"
The disgruntled bartender stood up and started ranting.
"YOU ARE GOING TO PAY FOR THIS! THIS IS ALL YOUR FUCKING FAULT!"
Damn. seems like this happens often. Better try to calm him down.
"Look, this ain't my fault. Those guys probably have an insurance number for shit like this."
I wasn't lying when I said that either. After all, these guys are more than willing to pay people off than deal with the outrage that comes with collateral damage.
"You better be right. Cause I don't want to pay for another repair."
"Yeah sure. You know where this guy lives? Gonna take him home."
Bao simply looked confused as he reached into Rocks pocket and pulled out a business card and a set of keys. At least the place isn't too far away.


Chapter 7:
(Out Past Curfew) 

Have you ever dragged an unconscious body into a vehicle?  Well, it's not very fun or easy. Added to the explosions from earlier, that makes one sore operator dragging what has to be at LEAST 130 LBS of businessman to the alleyway in the back. However, when I saw the car he came in here with, I almost cried in joy.  After all, I expected to be driving in a 5-year-old Toyota Carolla with a questionable stain in the back seat. What I got was a Red 1965 Pontiac GTO in pristine condition. 

After loading Rock into the backseat, I looked at the dash and quickly realized what type of car I was in.
Rally Gauge Cluster? Four-speed Manual Transmission? Someone must really love this girl.

I then grabbed the keys and then decided to start the engine. A loud roar greeted my ears and I realized that this guy had a fucking Tri-Power under the hood.  A glorious AMERICAN V8 pumping out 360 HP at 5,200 rpm.  I guess Jesus truly does love me.

Now, why was I here again? Oh, that's right, gotta bring Rock home in one piece. Not sure why I'm doing it though. After all, it's not like he's paying me to do so. In fact, even shooting at those mercs put my life in danger. Perhaps it's cause I feel bad for him. Or perhaps it's the alcohol talking. Oh well.

Suddenly, Rock started talking in his sleep. 

"Thanks for waking me up Revy."
Revy? Is that the same girl that Bao mentioned?
"You saved my life more times then I can count."
Wow. Someone's romantic.
"I don't know what I would do without you. I don't want to live without you."
Fuck me. This guy must be REALLY drunk right now.
He didn't talk for the rest of the trip though. Perhaps he's just resting up. 

A few minutes later, I arrived at the address on the business card. Making sure to lock the car and dust off the seats, I placed his left arm on my shoulder and walked up the stairs leading to what I can only assume was his apartment.  After struggling to find the key for the door, I unlocked it and stepped inside. To my right, there were four doors leading to what I can only assume were bedroom/bathroom combos. To my left, there was a living room/kitchen that looks recently used. As I proceeded to walk past said living room, I heard the cock of a hammer and the feel of cold metal against the back of my head. I guess I should have seen this one coming.

Then, a booming voice came from one of the rooms.

"Revy? What's going on?"

So the person holding a gun to my head is Revy. Good to know.
"We have an intruder Dutch. Some guy brought Rock from the bar and brought him in."
That's definitely a feminine voice. 

She then poked me with her gun.
"So dipshit. What do you think you're doing here?"

"Just bringing him home. Nothing malicious here."

Revy simply chuckled at this.
"Bullshit. No one from this hellhole does anything out of kindness."

"Well, I'm not from here. Just came in two weeks ago cause I fell on hard times."

Then, a black man came into the hallway. Wearing a green flak-jacket over a green shirt, he wouldn't look out of place in the  Vietnam war or even the Korean one.  He was armed with a sliver Remington 870 Marine Magnum Shotgun. He simply looked at me through his black sunglasses. This must be Dutch.

"So, are you really a friend?"

"Yes, I am sir. The only reason I'm even stuck my neck out is cause I felt bad for him."

As I said that, I could feel a little less pressure on the back of my head. At least they aren't as suspicious of me now.

"You guys mind If I put him on the couch? He's actually quite heavy."

Dutch then nodded to the gunwoman behind me and she removed the gun from my head. Breathing a sigh of relief, I placed Rock on the couch and stepped away half expecting to get shot. Instead, they both followed me with guns still drawn.

Great. I guess this how I die. Trying to save a guy I just met only to be shot by his friends cause I just fell for a honeypot. But then, I saw her eyes. They didn't have the greed normally associated with robbers. No desperation either. Instead, she had a look of concern and worry. That at least meant that this wasn't a robbery. Then, she started giving me orders.

"Take off your guns slowly."
Ok. Standard security measures here. No biggie.
After I took off my guns and placed them on the table, she simply motioned for me to empty my coat.  So, I opened my jacket up and placed the rest of my armament on the table.  Curiously enough, when I pulled out the "book" from earlier, Revy frowned. Or perhaps that's to be expected when you show a female some porn.

Anyway,  Dutch pulled out some handcuffs and told me to place my hands behind my back. We then sat down for a long talk. 

Dutch then started the line of questioning.

"So what are you doing here?"

"Just helping a new friend."

"Friend? None of us ever saw you with him before."

I smiled at this. After all, a nice smile can go a long way to making a relationship.
"You wouldn't believe how quick a few drinks can turn strangers into friends."

Then Revy started questioning me.

"What happened at the bar?"
She seems concerned. Then again, you don't save someone's ass multiple times if you don't care about them.

"A mercenary group called Minotaur Security Services attacked the bar looking for your friend. If I remember correctly, they called him  Mr. Okajima."

The duo only frowned at this revelation. I then continued my explanation.

"Your friend is extremely lucky though. They only sent D squad after him. If they sent any other squad, you wouldn't even have a body to bury or a scrap of his tie to keep."

Revys eyes widened and I could have sworn she teared up a little when I said this.  At least she's distracted now. Time to loosen these cuffs. 

Remember the watch from my notes? You know, the one with the tracking beacon and shiv inserted? Well, as I was talking to them I was also positioning my right hand to grab the shiv from my left wrist. As I worked the shiv into the lock on the cuff on my left hand, I realized that it's surprisingly easy to do this without anyone noticing. The fact that my hands were hidden behind my back was also a blessing.  Better keep the conversation rolling.

"I take it that you have experience with these guys? After all, they seemed to have targeted your friend with a kill order."

Dutch poured a glass of rum and answered me.

"That's confidential. After all, you don't have any experience with these guys."
 Judging by his tone, it seems like they need someone with experience. Time to nail this interview.

"That's where you're wrong Dutch. I've dealt with these guys multiple times in the past, and I know how they operate. They like having more firepower than any possible target and have at least Thirty 20 man squads ready to go at any time. They use NATO weaponry most of the time but also like using former Soviet-era gunships like the Hind. They deal with executive security, secure buildings for high-value excursions, squash rebellions, blackmail politicians, gather intelligence, and even kill targets."

The duo looked shocked at what I was saying. I guess they thought I was just another heavily armed thug. At least this allows me to unlock the cuff on my right side. Now, let's see if they are gonna try to attack.

"Uhhh"
Seems like Rock is awake.
"Where am I? What happened?"
Revy then looked at him and slapped him in the face.

"You FUCKING IDIOT! You almost got yourself killed for the second time today!"
Now fully awake, he chuckled softly.

"Sorry Revy. Hey, what happened to the guy who brought me here? Don't tell me you shot him."

I then laughed.
"I'm right here buddy. Can you tell your friends that I saved your ass so they won't shoot me?"

Rock then stood up and stretched. As he did, I saw a gleam in his eyes. The type of gleam that one only has when they see an opportunity for profit.

"You know Dutch, I think we can really use someone like him. After all, he took out a whole squad of them when Revy had trouble with three of them."

Revy simply punched him in the gut.

"I told you not to tell anyone about that Rock"
She then turned to Dutch and started shouting 
"We should just kill this guy Dutch! After all, it's not like we need him!"

Great. Seems like I'll have to get violent. But as I was about to leap for my guns on the table, Dutch reached for her gun and flicked the safety on.

"I think Rocks right. After all, he DOES have experience with these guys before. However, I think we need to know a little bit about him first."

Taking my cue, I then started explaining what I did.
"I worked as a security consultant. Some hits here and there, but I primarily worked on physical security. I can tell you that you have a few gaps in yours. No grates, no security cams, no alarm, and not even a second way out. I could join your crew and help you stay on top of everything."

"Any criminal record or warrants?"

"None that I'm aware of. Just some outstanding traffic tickets in Los Angeles and New York."
When I mentioned New York, Revy cringed. Better look into that later. The trio then stared at each other and reached a silent agreement.

"All right then. I guess you are now part of the crew. Don't start anything."

"No problem. I've been looking for a better job anyway."

Dutch then pulled out a handcuff key and started walking towards me. I  smiled at him and tossed him the cuffs.

"No need. I already got out of the cuffs."
They looked shocked at this. To be honest, getting out of Handcuffs is easier than it looks.
"Pro tip, next time you cuff someone, cuff their hands in front of them. Learned that the hard way when one of my partners got killed during an Extraction."

Dutch then handed me a glass of Barcadi and raised his up.  The rest of us followed suit with a nice solid *Clink*
"To the new member of the Lagoon Crew. May he last longer than the last gunman we hired."

"Wait, what?" I said nervously. "How long did the last guy last?"

Revy laughed and reached for another shot.

"One day. Fucker tried to grab my ass so I shot him in the Dick."

"Good to know."

Looking around, Rock then turned to Dutch.

"Should we tell Benny about this?"

"Nah. Let him finish his conversation with Jane. He'll come out eventually."

As I put my guns in their appropriate holsters, Revy grabbed the "book" and proceeded to burn it with her lighter.

"Oh come on! I was planning to read that later!"

"Then I did you a favor. There are better things to get your jollies from."
As I was about to call bullshit, I realized that I needed to move my stuff nearby.

"Hey Dutch? You guys have a place that I can crash nearby?"

"Yup. Third door to the left. Don't worry about rent though. That comes out of your pay."

 Good. That means one last bill to deal with. Better call my (former) boss and tell him I quit. Besides, he never paid me enough for that shit.

I then pulled out my phone and proceeded to turn it on.
As always, that cutesy startup sound played.
(In Japanese) 
Standard Magical girl music in the background.
*Magical girl voice*
"Radical Revy-chan on stage!"
*Confused Male*
"Who are you?"
*Narrator's voice*
"The Magical Girl"

Rock simply spit out his drink when that sound played. Realizing that he probably understood what it meant, I decided to ask him about it.

"Well? Whats it saying?"
The poor guy simply choked on his words.
"Let me guess, it's from some weird Japanese show."

Rock nervously nodded.
"Yeah. That's what it is."

Cool. I guess every time I started my phone, I was actually playing a TV intro. Sounds like something that would catch on back stateside.

"Hey, I'm gonna get my stuff and move it here. Mind if I borrow your car?"

Dutch grinned.
"Go ahead. After all, it's the company car. Just don't scratch it."

He then tossed me the keys to the GTO. In one smooth motion, I caught it in my right hand.
"Don't worry. I would never think of scratching her."

"Rock? Revy? Do you mind going with him?"

Revy frowned but stood up anyway.
"No problem boss"

As we walked outside, I realized what type of shit I stepped in this time. I just joined a crew of sometimes pirates who were targeted by a major mercenary crew and who knows how many others.

Welp. Better as well get to know the people I'm gonna die with.

Chapter ???:
(A Few Thoughts)

Dutch said that it was his job to keep track of inter-office relationships.
Benny said that he had a feeling when he saw us together.
Ryan said that he saw it when he saw us drinking at the Yellow Flag.
Eda said that we were destined for each other.

But who would have honestly thought that we would have ended up together? Rock and Two-Hands, the businessman and the killer. No, she was much more than just a killer. She was a beautiful woman who I loved. To me, she was the pinnacle of beauty. Her plum hair, the intricate tattoo on her right shoulder, her soft supple breasts, and the feeling of her lips on mine. Oh, how I enjoyed myself as our tongues danced when we made out, her hands grabbing my hair and pulling me close. Forcing me to simply inhale as the smell of gunpowder and rum floods my nose.  

      Pulling away was always hard for us. Neither of us wanted this to end.  But the feeling of ecstasy as we made love made that disappointment vanish. The way she moaned my name as I plunge into her depths, her trembles of pleasure as I bottom out, the feeling of her nails scraping my back as she came, and the feeling of peace and satisfaction we both had afterward. I just couldn't have enough of her. She truly was my light in this city. She woke me up from my dream and showed me how to really live. But then again, is this real? Or I dreaming? If this really is a dream, it's one I never want to wake up from.

Chapter 8:
(Getting To Know You)

As we piled into the GTO, I decided to try and strike up a conversation with the duo.

"So, how does a guy like Rock end up in a city like this?"

They then proceeded to tell me some of their misadventures.

"I kidnapped him looking for an extra ransom"

That's certainly an interesting way to start a partnership. Perhaps he has Stockholm Syndrome?

"Then Rock decides to use a capsized boat as a ramp to launch torpedos at an attacking helicopter!"

How the fuck did they manage that? As far as I know, torpedos aren't made to fly through the air like that.

"Revy was leaping from boat to boat killing Luaks men like it was nothing."

Shit. I would have loved to see that happen.

Revy reached for another smoke and reached for a light.

"We kidnapped Garcia Lovelace during a job and his crazy maid blew up the Yellow Flag."

Crazy maid? That's hard to believe. Then again, so is half of the things they're telling me. She then continued explaining what happened.

"Turns out, she was a former FARC guerrilla called the bloodhound turned housemaid.  We fought, and I won."

Sounds like bullshit. After all, the Bloodhound of Florencia was a legend that simply disappeared 5 years ago. Even IF she reappeared, I doubt that anyone could best her in combat. Rocks chuckling and Revys glare only confirmed my suspicions.

As we turned off the main road, Revy continued.

"We were hired by Mr. Chang to deliver a package to the CIA. Rock got kidnapped and I had to save his sorry ass." 

They then mentioned some other of their misadventures. Vampire twins and a counterfeiter with a bad sense of timing were mentioned. However, my interest was peaked when they mentioned Japan.

Revy then poked Rock and reached for his box of cigarettes
"Rock got hired by Balalaika to be her translator on a trip to Japan. The Washimine Group wanted to take out The Kosa Council with Hotel Moscow's help."

"The Washimine Group? I actually used to work for them a few years ago. Don't really know why they would attack the council first though."

They then looked at me in shock. 

"What? I'm a security consultant. Ginji actually hired me to help secure Yukio and prevent any attacks from the Kosa Council. How's those two doing anyway?"

Rock simply frowned and Revy made a cut throat motion with her pointer finger.  Realizing the change of atmosphere, we simply drove in silence to the apartment.

When we got there, I got out and handed Rock the keys to the car.

"Be back in five minutes. Don't leave me behind ok!"

(In the building across the street.)

"Targets acquired."

"Good. Backup should be here in 8 minutes."

"These guys won't even know what hit em."

Chapter 9:
(Car Talk)

As Ryan went inside to grab his stuff, Rock shifted into the driver's seat and Revy moved into the now vacant seat next to him. Leaning back and placing her feet on the dash, she decided to smoke to pass the time. Offering a cigarette to Rock, she suddenly groaned in annoyance.

"I don't trust him Rock."
 
Lighting his cigarette, he turned to her and chuckled.

"Do you ever trust anyone?"

"That's not what I meant. This guy reminds me of that asshole Chaka."

Frowning at the mention of Chaka, Rock took a drag of his cigarette and allowed Revy to continue with her rant.

"Think about it. This dipshit carries two full-auto 10mm pistols AND two full-auto Glocks. He simply screams 'wannabe' with that stupid fucking loadout."

Realizing the irony that came with his partner's criticism of someone using pistols À la John Woo, Rock almost choked on what remained of his cigarette before trying to convince Revy not to shoot their new co-worker.

"The guy dealt with those mercenaries much better than you did last time Revy."

"So what?" She scoffed "Even if he DOES have skill, he's still a thrillseeker."

Still not getting her point, Rock subconsciously shifted his weight towards Revy.

"What do you mean Revy? Aren't we all looking for the next rush? Be it from a gunfight, whores, or even gambling?"

"This guy is different. People like him, they only have allegiance to their next paycheck. In fact, I'm willing to bet that he only saved you to get into the good graces of the crew."

"Are you saying that he is going to betray us Revy?" 

"No. I'm simply saying that he has some sort of ulterior motive for all this. He isn't doing any of this out of the goodness of his heart."

"Revy, you're just nervous. Give him a couple days and I'm sure that you two will get along just fine."

 Sighing in annoyance, Revy flicked the cigarette out the window.

"You're too trusting of people partner."

Realizing that Ryan was now walking towards the car, Rock started the car and turned to Revy once more.

"That's what you always say Revy."

Chapter 9:
(Trial By Fire)

*During the conversation in Chapter 8*

Walking into the apartment, I realized what type of clusterfuck I just walked into. After all,  you don't just hire two teams of mercenaries on the same day unless you REALLY want something done RIGHT NOW. The fact that only D team was hired wasn't much of a relief either.  You know why? Cause the company has this "Buy Two Get One Free" deal that only applies to them. 

Glancing out the window, I noticed that the blinds were moving on the fourth-floor window across the street. Normally, that wouldn't worry me too much. After all, they could be looking for a friend or it could be some kid who wants to look out the window. But here? With the attack only an hour before? In a city where kids were nowhere to be seen? That was a big red flag. Like, a Nigerian Prince asking for my bank account number or an Indian guy asking me to update Windows 95 over the phone levels of "suspicious".

Grabbing a duffel bag filled with my assorted clothes, magazines, and a laptop, I decided that now would be a good time to weigh my options. 

Under normal circumstances, a quick call to the cops would have solved this problem before it started. After all, most attackers don't want to deal with the local police and even major mercenary companies have a reputation to uphold. However, this was Roanapur. The cops were corrupt, and no one really cared about what happened here. Therefore, the only way out of this was a shootout. And to be perfectly honest, I've always wanted to have a high-speed shootout.

Granted, I didn't have any experience in the matter. In fact, most of my "shootouts" were short-lived due to the incompetence of the thugs or because my job was simply to get the client AWAY from the shitshow. At any rate, this at least gives me an opportunity to see how skilled my new co-workers are.

Walking towards the car, I decided to act normal until we start moving. Climbing into the backseat, I stretched and poked Rock in the shoulder.

"Just act normal."
Raising an eyebrow, he started the car and shifted it into gear. "What's going on?"

"I think someone is watching us."
As Rock turned onto the main road, Revy shifted her weight to allow for a quicker draw.  I grabbed the P90 and checked it over once more. Fifty rounds should be more than enough for this.

Suddenly, a black SUV turned onto the road and started charging towards us. Taking his cue, Rock shifted to a lower gear and accelerated at a blistering pace.  Thanks to the superior power of the GTO, we were able to keep them at a distance of about 40 yards.  Weaving in between traffic, we were able to keep them from taking a clean shot until their friends arrived. 

They came in a variety of chilies. Mostly 4 door sedans, but also some on motorbikes and one guy decided that it was a good idea to come in an MX-5. All in all, that meant that 15 vehicles filled with gunmen were coming in. 

As much as I would love to say that I saved my coworkers with my superior weaponry and skill, that's not really what happened. In fact, their performance was truly something to behold. 

With one guy coming in on a motorbike, Rock brake checked him and forced the rider to crash into a nearby dumpster. 

Grinning, Revy pulled out her cutlasses and flicked off their safeties.
"Fuckin' a baby!"

Realizing that motorbikes were probably not the greatest choice, the other riders decided to pull back. Unfortunately, it was a little too late for them as Revy stuck her upper body out the window and aimed at the first rider.

*BANG* 

The first rider went down with a sickening crunch. The vehicles behind him simply ran over his lifeless body as if he wasn't even there. The final two riders then peeled off into a side road. Good choice.  However, the other 11 cars were still in play. Not to mention the vehicles that Rock was skillfully weaving between as if this was his daily commute. 

At this moment, the driver of the MX-5 was gaining on our left and we were running out of road. Ahead of us was a T-intersection that ran along the coast.  Seeing this, Rock pulled the handbrake and drifted to the right. As the back of the car fishtailed, Revy took the opportunity and mag dumped into the car, killing the driver and causing the car to plow straight into the water with a satisfying splash.

Now enraged at their failure, the other gunmen started shooting at us. With no care about who was around them, or if they were shooting at civilians, they managed to land a few good hits shattering the back window and impacting against the trunk.  Fortunately for us, Benny decided to spend a little extra money on armoring the vehicle. Unfortunately for me, it was at this moment that Revy decided to criticise me for my lack of "balls".

"What happened to 'Mr. I'm so skilled' eh? Afraid that you're gonna get shot?"

"Well, it's not like I can get a clear shot with all the civilians in the way!"

"You want a clear shot dumbass? I'll give you a clear shot!"
Cocking back her Barettas, she motioned for me to go to the left side with a wave of her gun.

Without warning, Rock slowed down and allowed the first two cars to pass us. While that was happening, Revy aimed one gun at the car passing us and another at a car about 20 yards behind us. 

As she was doing that, I was internally facepalming at her stupidity.
"There's no fucking way that she's gonna make that shot." 

She then opened fire on both vehicles with pinpoint accuracy. The one in front of us crashed into a nearby club and the one behind us crashed into the SUV.
Simply in shock at what just occurred, a bullet grazed me in the arm before I shot at the driver of the other sedan turning the occupants into swiss cheese. Rock then turned to the left, causing some of the vehicles to pass us except for four sedans that were behind the pack. Revy then waited until he turned to the right, giving her a clear shot at the occupants of the vehicle in the front. I then took aim at the vehicles behind them and smiled at how things lined up so perfectly.  The rest of the chase worked out the same way. A quick burst from me followed by a 2-4 shot burst from Revy. 

However, the really interesting bit was how Rock and Revy were working together during the whole thing.   Or more specifically, how those two were in sync with one another. When she required a better angle to shoot, he drove closer to the target. With every turn, she braced herself against the car without fail. When she needed to reload, he grabbed two spare mags and handed them to her. When a bullet missed Rock's head by less than an inch, she grabbed my gun and fired it like it was nothing at the last two cars till they crashed into one another and exploded.  In a really badass way, it was kinda romantic. 

And just like that, the assault was over. All the "bad guys" were dead and all we had to do was drive away before the cops came asking questions. So imagine my surprise when Rock not only stopped the car but took the key out of the ignition. Revy also noticed this and hit him on the back of the head.

"What the hell are you doing Rock? We gotta get the hell out of here!"

"Look Revy, Balalaika's signaling for us to stop."

Looking in front of us, I noticed that there appeared to be six black luxury sedans blocking our way.  Apparently, Revy noticed this too because she was now more worried than angry. They both got out of the car and Rock motioned for me to come with.

Revy then pulled out a cigarette and motioned for a lighter. When Rock handed her one, she took a puff and gave Rock the rest.

"Let's see what Big Sis wants this time."